


Teh Mylar

by etoiledunord



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Hello Mohinder, M/M, Meta Fic, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-02
Updated: 2008-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoiledunord/pseuds/etoiledunord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A string of cliches.  And sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teh Mylar

**Author's Note:**

> A conversation with ladywilde80 on Livejournal got me thinking, and I came to the conclusion that we, as fans, should at least be able to laugh at ourselves. This resulted in my attempting to write a crack piece that included every Mylar cliche I could cram in there. I got halfway through, however, and realized that, rather than crack, I had written run-of-the-mill Mylar. I promptly deleted it. I admitted this to ladywilde80, and, through the discussion that ensued, she convinced me to rewrite it. We decided to call it meta-crack. This story is a string of Mylar cliches that is meant to be amusing from the perspective of somebody who has seen these all used (and abused) in various scenarios.
> 
> Also, please note that this is not an attack on the fandom or any author(s). I write for this fandom and I am very fond of the people involved in it. This is just for fun.
> 
> Lastly, I have written a DVD-style commentary on this piece, which can be found [here](http://etoiledunord.livejournal.com/37400.html).

Mohinder rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair. He was tired. Glancing at the clock in the corner of his computer screen, he saw it was almost 2am. With Matt and Molly away on a trip to Los Angeles, Mohinder had fallen into his old habit of staying up late to work, focusing so intently that he even neglected his cup of chai, which was now sitting on the desk, cold.

Deciding he should get some sleep, Mohinder turned off his computer, rose from his chair, and headed towards his bedroom, stifling a yawn. He was halfway to the door, when, suddenly, a small _thud_ from behind him stopped him in his tracks.

Mohinder froze. If his life in America had taught him nothing else, it had taught him to always be wary. Though it had been several months since his own life had been directly threatened, the fear was still there, tingling through his skull. In his mind’s eye, he saw a tall figure approaching, a pale hand outstretched, long fingers itching to curl around his throat…

After a full minute of silence, Mohinder decided that the noise had been nothing. Maybe he was overreacting a little, he thought. For nearly six months, he had heard nothing of Sylar beyond the occasional cryptic news reports of deaths far away. It was likely that he planned to stay away from the city that was home to several people who wanted him dead.

Mohinder relaxed as he entered his bedroom and stripped down to his bright orange boxers. Sleep would make him feel better. He moved to pull back the covers so that he could get into bed, but then froze once again. This time, he felt, rather than heard, a presence at his back.

“Hello, Mohinder,” said a voice in his ear.

“Sylar...”

Slowly, Mohinder felt hands clasp around his biceps and turn him around until he was face to face with the man who had haunted so many of his dreams. Sylar was looking down at him with a smirk. Mohinder tried to remind himself to stay calm, but he was sure that the other man could hear his heart pounding in fear.

“Nice to see you again, doctor,” Sylar said smoothly. “Did you miss me?”

Steeling his resolve, Mohinder spoke. “You’re not getting anything from me, Sylar. There’s no more list, no more research you can use, and no one here with an ability for you to take.”

Sylar’s smirk grew into a full grin. “Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to think of some other use for you.”

“What are you talking-” Mohinder started, but was cut off by Sylar trailing his fingers down Mohinder’s chest and stomach. He gasped. “What the hell are you doing?!” he hissed, swatting the other man’s hand away.

“Oh, nothing you don’t want,” Sylar replied casually. He reached up again, this time running his hand through Mohinder’s black curls. “It’s been fun playing around lately, but I’ve been missing the closeness we used to have.”

“Are you referring to the time you tried to kill me or the time you simply held me at gunpoint for hours to get me to cure you?” Mohinder shot back.

Sylar paused before leaning farther into Mohinder’s space. “Just because you may not want to remember it, doctor, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

Mohinder flinched. There had been a time… He wasn’t really sure how to think of it. It had started with a person who was living proof of his father’s work; he had then become a traveling companion who asked the most interesting questions, then a friend he wanted to protect, then a man he’d invited into his bed, then a liar who tore his world apart. Mohinder’s relationship with Sylar was a complicated one, indeed—and that was only their first week.

“That wasn’t real, Sylar,” Mohinder insisted. “Your deceit made it all meaningless.”

“Oh, really?” Sylar mused. He leaned in and licked the pulse point on Mohinder’s neck, slowly, tracing his way up and along his jaw to his ear before biting gently at the lobe. “Then why does your heart beat even faster when I do that?”

Mohinder closed his eyes and took in a shaky breath. This couldn’t be happening. Sylar couldn’t be here trying to seduce him, and Mohinder certainly couldn’t be responding. “You’re a monster,” Mohinder said. “You killed my father, you killed countless innocent-”

“I had killed before I met you, and you still whispered things into my ear that I know you meant.” Sylar was now skimming his fingers along the top of the waistband of Mohinder’s boxers. “I did it to be special, you know. Your father told me I could be special, but he didn’t like me once I began to realize my potential. When I heard that you’d arrived after his death, I knew you would like me because I was special.” Sylar dipped his fingers below the waistband. “I wanted you to like me. I knew we had the potential to do great things together.”

Mohinder’s breathing had become shallow and erratic. His body was betraying him, remembering of its own accord nights in dark motel rooms spent making love desperately, promises to keep the man whose name he panted safe cascading over the both of them. When Sylar reached down and wrapped his hand around Mohinder’s erection, his mind went, too, forgetting all objections and giving itself over to pleasure.

“Oh, God…”

Sylar was quick to react, pulling Mohinder’s boxers down and pushing the man backwards onto the bed. He removed the bright orange fabric from around Mohinder’s ankles and threw it aside before getting onto the bed to straddle the other man. He leaned down to finally kiss him full on the mouth and was satisfied to find nothing but eager compliance. Mohinder’s hands ran up and down Sylar’s torso before slipping under his shirt and pulling it up. They broke the kiss so that Sylar could pull it off completely, tossing it on the floor.

Sylar looked down at the man beneath him, eyes heavy with lust and limbs spread wantonly. “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed. He slid down the bed a ways until his face was level with Mohinder’s cock. He ran his fingers delicately along it, hearing Mohinder gasp at the teasing contact, before dipping his head down and taking it in his mouth.

“Oh, God, Sylar!” Mohinder exclaimed, running his hands through the other man’s hair. At the sound of his own name coming from that mouth, rather than the name of a man he was merely pretending to be, Sylar groaned, and it sent vibrations through Mohinder’s flesh that caused him to shout again.

“Oh! I-! I-! Sylar, I’m going to-!” Suddenly, Mohinder was seized by orgasm, thrusting upwards as he came in Sylar’s mouth. Sylar waited for the aftershocks to subside before pulling back, swallowing.

He rose from the bed, looking appreciatively at the sight of Mohinder, spent, collapsed on the bed. He concentrated for a moment, and a small bottle flew from the bathroom into his hand. Quickly removing his pants and underwear, Sylar knelt on the foot of the bed.

“Mohinder…”

“Hmm?”

“Lift up your legs for me.”

Mohinder complied, and Sylar flipped open the cap of the bottle, applying lube to one of his finger. Carefully, he slipped it inside Mohinder, who groaned.

“You like that?” Sylar asked.

“Yes,” Mohinder sighed.

“Good,” Sylar replied, withdrawing his hand to add more lube before inserting two fingers. He moved them slowly in and out, stretching the other man, preparing him.

Mohinder was beginning to squirm in renewed anticipation. “Sylar…” he gasped. “Sylar, please…”

“Say it first,” Sylar told him. “Say what you said to me before—what I know you meant.”

“I…” Mohinder hesitated. Sylar then scissored his fingers, causing Mohinder to cry out. After he got over the shock, he spoke. “Stay with me. I want you to stay. You’re special and important to me in so many ways, and I want you with me.”

Sylar knew he still meant it.

Removing his fingers, Sylar pushed Mohinder’s knees up to his chest and positioned himself at the man’s entrance. In one smooth motion, he entered him, moaning at the feeling. Slowly, he began to fuck him, building up a steady rhythm. Mohinder met him thrust for thrust, taking Sylar deep inside. This is what Sylar had been craving for the past weeks—hell, for nearly the past year. This was perfection, crying out beneath him, bringing him to the brink of ecstasy and pushing him over.

Mohinder came for a second time, and the sensation of the man clenching around him caused Sylar to follow suit. After riding it out, Sylar collapsed beside Mohinder, reaching down to the floor and grabbing an article of clothing—Mohinder’s boxers, it turned out—to wipe the stickiness from the man’s abdomen. Discarding the garment once again, he gathered the exhausted man into his arms, placing a kiss on his shoulder.

“I love you,” Sylar whispered, but Mohinder was already asleep.


End file.
